


Small Town USA

by Slash_addict



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slash_addict/pseuds/Slash_addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picture the quintessential small American town.  It has a population of no more than 250 people, all of whom are on a first name basis . . . There is one gas station, one doctor’s office and most importantly, one drug store. Said drug store is run by one little old lady . . . she knows you, she knows your mother, she knows your grand-mother and was probably present at your birth.   Now imagine, in this strait laced and stifling environment of proper moral conduct, trying to buy those objects which are so very crucial for the extracurricular actives of a growing boy, such as condoms . . . or lube.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of the author. (Mainly anything said by Pastor Daniel) As always, comments and criticism are most welcome. Also, i do this for fun, if you don't like it don't read it. Also OOC on both parts, but as I see it even Treize and Milliardo were young once. Also beginning BDSM.

 

Picture the quintessential small American town. It has a population of no more than 250 people, all of whom are on a first name biases. It is so conservative, both socially and religiously, that it might, in defiance of both Newtonian and Einsteinian physicals, actually be going backwards. On Sunday all commerce comes to a grinding halt, as the entire town packs into the one Baptist Church of the Salvation of Our Lord, to listen to no less than three hours of spirited sermon on the certainty of Hellfire and Brimstone, the graphic description of which would make Satan himself start looking for the nearest exit. There are no movie theaters, there are no books stores, all information is filtered through the school, combination middle and high, the beauty parlor, and the afore mentioned Baptist Church of the Salvation of Our Lord. Homosexuality and single women past the age of 21 do not exist. Local entertainment consists of dragging the entire family out to watch the high school football game every Friday night. Bereft of such high quality entrainment during the off season there is always Scrabble . . . and alcohol in mass quantities. There is one gas station, one doctor’s office and most importantly, one drug store. Said drug store is run by one little old lady who stands behind her pristine white counter as the self proclaimed guardian of Moral Virtue, and has done so since the dawn of time. Her name is Mrs. Smith and she knows you, she knows your mother, she knows your grand-mother and was probably present at your birth. Now imagine, in this strait laced and stifling environment of proper moral conduct, trying to buy those objects which are so very crucial for the extracurricular actives of a growing boy, such as condoms . . . or lube. Yes ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hell.

Treize sat on the front porch of his house, staring out unseeing at the gathering darkness. Treize’s family was not originally from the small town of Scravinton, which was indicated merely by the fact that his name was Treize and not Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. The population of Scravinton had certain ideas about names, believing that the old names were the best names; this was, generally speaking, their credo on all fronts. No, Treize’s family, originally from France by way of New York City, had initially just owned a summer house near the town (and that was being generous really) in Northern Virginia. Treize’s mother, however, had simply fallen in love with the “quaint little place” and thus the Khushrenadas had become a permanent fixture in Scravinton, much to their small son’s utter dismay. It had taken the natives some time to adjust, having a deep-seated distrust of all things “foreign.” But the Khushrenada’s, being an ancient family, had finally won over the population, who, in their utter small town snobbery could not dislike a family that could trace their linage back fifteen generations. That had been eleven years ago, Treize had been five at the time.

“You’d think,” a voice complained out of the darkness, startling Treize out of his reverie, “that after all this time, that there would be something better to do in this God forsaken wilderness than sit on the front porch and get drunk.”

His name is Milliardo Peacecraft, and he is yet another transient in the intellectual quagmire that is Scravinton. Milliardo’s parents had moved to Scravinton shortly after he was born, on the orders of the Peacecraft family doctor. Malcolm, Millardo’s father, had suffered a stress induced heart attack and his doctor had order him out of the city and into the “quite countryside” where he was to “see to his health and forget all this day trading nonsense.”

Treize snorted in a definitely ungentlemanly-like manor as Milliardo handed him a bottle of Jack Daniels and replied, “You should know better than that by now.”

Milliardo sat down heavily next to Treize grabbing the bottle back and taking a long pull, “Yeah,” he sighed, “I should.”

Treize rolled his eyes as he absentmindedly swatted at some of Milliardo’s hair that the evening breeze had blown into his face. Milliardo’s hair was just one of his many personal traits that had gone over like a lead balloon in Scravinton; where men wore crew cuts, or, if they were feeling especially risqué, they might opt for a bowl cut. They did not, as was the emphatic assertion by Pastor Daniel, wear it down to the middle of their back.

Treize glanced down at his watch, squinting to read it in the gloom, “You’re late, did you have trouble nicking the bottle?”

Milliardo made a face, “No and yes. I got the bottle fine, dad’s snuck off to try and find a place that’ll get better reception for the game, but I was waylaid by Pastor Daniel who was attempting to save my soul from the iniquity of long hair . . . again.”

Treize laughed, “Ah, I should have guessed.”

“I swear, one of these days I’m just gonna loose it.” Milliardo muttered, “This town is . . . it’s suffocating! And hypocritical? The lot of them. Its ridicules! Did you know that Mrs. Merdock actually tried to set me up with her daughter?”

Treize nearly spit out the mouth full of Jack Daniels as he started laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Milliardo fumed at him

“N-no, it’s not.” Treize replied trying not to laugh and failing miserable, “it’s hilarious! W-what did you tell her?”

“You are no help at all did you know that? None.” Milliardo groused, taking the bottle back, “I told her no, of course. Have you seen her daughter?”  
“Hard not to. She takes up about three city blocks.”

Milliardo nodded glumly, taking another pull.

“I can’t believe she tried to set you up, oh God what a couple you’d make.” Treize sniggered.

“Don’t get too cocky, she was talking about setting you up with Katie Jo.”

Treize choked on his laughter, paling visibly in the dim light, “You’re not serious!”

It was Milliardo’s turn to laugh, “Would I lie?”

“Yes.” Came Treize’s immediate and above all accurate response.

“Ok, well yeah, but would I lie to you?”

“Point.” Treize sighed, “God, what is it with the women in this town?! Can no one just be single anymore? You’d think they’d be pleased that we weren’t running around trying to impregnate their daughters; which, according to Pastor Daniel, is all we males seem to want to do.” Treize made a face, “They want us to date them they just don’t want us to touch them.”

“That’s more than fine by me.” Milliardo muttered darkly, and then froze having realized that he’d said it out loud.

A moment passed in which Milliardo felt the bottom of his world fall away, before Treize asked quietly, “You want me to pretend I didn’t hear that?”

Milliardo, heart hammering in his chest, considered the request for so long that Treize began to believe that he wasn’t going to answer at all, until finally Milliardo sighed and whispered, “You can if you want to.”

Milliardo had long been aware that he had more than simply platonic feelings toward his best friend, but he certainly wasn’t stupid enough to say anything. Aside from not wanting to alienate his best and only friend, homosexuals were as welcome in Scravinton as witches were in Salem; Milliardo personally believed that the treatment would be on par.

“I’d guessed, you know.”

Milliardo glanced up from his sudden intensive study of the Jack Daniels bottle to be met with a pair of warm, blue eyes. “You could have told me.”

“I could have,” Milliardo nodded, returning to his study of the Jack Daniels’ label. He began trying to peel it off with fingers that shook ever so slightly. “But I had no idea how you’d react and I wasn’t too keen on loosing my only friend.”

“Milliardo I’m hurt,” Treize replied, frowning, “you’re my best friend, and you will always be my best friend. Is there anything that I could do that would make you stop being my friend?”

Milliardo looked up in surprise, “No, of course not!” He smiled ruefully, “Ok, point made, but still, you did grow up here.” He gestured expansively with the bottle, taking in the font walk and the tops of houses that were just visible in the distance.  
“As did you, and yet you remain decidedly un-warped.” Treize replied firmly, “Thus it is possible to grow up here and not become entirely closed minded. Besides, I’ve had five whole years elsewhere—that has to count for something.” Milliardo, who had been preparing to kick Treize if he planned to start in on another of his “I’ve lived in France and am therefore cultured” lectures, froze as Treize continued. “And in answer to your as of yet unasked question, no, it doesn’t bother me, for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which is because so am I.”

Milliardo drew in a sharp breath, his stomach tightening painfully, “Really?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant and failing horribly.

Treize smiled in the dark. It had only taken them how many months to work up the courage to have this conversation? Treize had known for a while that he harbored feelings for the blond boy at his side, he had been almost certain that Milliardo had felt the same way, but it was not until just a moment ago that he had become absolutely sure of it.

“So, um, are you interested in anyone? In town, I mean?” Milliardo queried quietly.

Treize laughed and turned to look Milliardo in the eyes, running one hand lightly along the side of his face. Milliardo shivered, leaning into the touch.

“Yes.” He whispered, and kissed him. It was the first kiss for both of them, they were sixteen and fourteen respectively, eager, inexperienced, shy and excited. It was not a kiss that would go down in history for its eloquent execution, but it was passionate, full of need and yearning and no small amount of fear. This went against everything they had ever been taught, by school, by their parents and most certainly by the Church. They broke apart, gasping for breath, and smiled shyly at one another in the darkness.

Treize, eyes sparkling, commented with a presence of mind that was his trade mark, “We probably shouldn’t be doing this on the front porch.”

Milliardo laughed nervously, let out a shaky breath and replied, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. But . . .but we’re not gonna stop right?”

Treize made a sound in his throat and pulled Milliardo against him, almost slamming their lips together. After they broke apart again, Treize replied, running one hand over Milliardo’s cheek, “No, no we are most certainly not going to stop. The rest of the town be damned.”

Milliardo sighed, trying not to think about anyone being damned, least of all himself, and leaned into Treize. “You wanna go to The Fort?”

Treize nodded and hearts hammering in their chests took Milliardo’s hand and led the way into the darkness.

The Fort had been built by a kid named Howard, who, despite being a native of Scravinton, had managed to turn out quite well by Milliardo and Treize’s standards. While Howard’s parents despaired of his rather laid back and unorthodox nature, as well as his unexplainable penchant for bad Hawaiian shirts, they had been unequivocally impressed with his ability to build, fix, or repair anything. The rest of the town had been forced to agree, and thus had forgiven him his eccentricies. He was currently away at college, but before leaving he had taken Milliardo— whom he saw as his successor as the town eccentric due to his long hair and overall bad attitude— and gifted him with The Fort. The most attractive thing about The Fort was that it was utterly impossible to find unless you knew where to look. Howard had designed it so that it would blend in completely with the surrounding swamp and in all the years of its existence no one outside of the three of them had ever been inside. Howard had even rigged up running water and a small gas powered generator off of which ran a small light bubble and eclectic fan. For two boys in a town where privacy was something that happened to other people, it was paradise.

As they walked towards The Fort Treize asked, “How long?”

Milliardo didn’t have to ask what he meant, he’d been thinking the same thing, “Oh, Hell, I don’t know, about a year now, giver or take a couple months. You?”

Treize, nodded, “A little less than that, but then,” he smirked back at his best friend, “You’re still a bit young, Hell even disregarding the obvious bits I could still get in trouble for “corrupting” you.”

“I’ll be fifteen in May.” Milliardo replied defensively, “that’s barely two years difference.”

Treize chuckled, “Yeah but your fourteen now. Come on admit it— that just sounds bad, fourteen and sixteen. God, it makes me sound like a pedophile.” Treize, seeing the look of concern on Milliardo’s face hurried to add, “It’s not going to stop me mind you, I was just pointing out that it sounds like I’m corrupting you.”

Milliardo rolled his eyes and snickered, “Yeah, you, corrupting me. That’ll happen.”

“May I remind you that it was I who kissed you first?”

Milliardo waved the statement away grinning, “I’d have gotten round to it, I was just testing the waters.”

Treize snorted, “Sure.”

“I was.”

“Riiiiiight.”

They had reached The Fort at this point and once they were safely ensconced therein the awkwardness of Treize’s front porch returned with a vengeance. They stared at the floor in silence for a few moments until Treize finally shook his head. Grinning, he opened his arms to Milliardo, “Come here.” Milliardo grinned in return and gratefully launched himself into Treize’s embrace. They kissed again, less awkwardly this time, learning each other’s mouths. Treize’s hand’s slid unconsciously down Milliardo’s back making Milliardo moan into the kiss.

“Oh really?” Treize asked grinning at the sudden flush spreading across Milliardo’s face and the emerging bugle in his pants.

“You . . . you’re not allowed to tease.” Milliardo countered trying to catch his breath.

Treize pulled him closer so that Milliardo could feel the answering bugle in Treize’s own pants.

“I am most certainly not teasing. Well, not in the sense you mean it anyway.”

Milliardo grinned, running one hand down Treize chest, making him shiver. “God I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. All the nights I’ve laid awake dreaming about this and now . . .” He trailed off leaning against Treize’s chest, loving the feeling of being aloud to so. “It’s like heaven only better.”

Treize laughed, “Milliardo,” he replied pulling them down so that they were both seated on the floor, with Milliardo seated in front of him. “That was terribly cliché.”

Milliardo, however, didn’t respond because at that moment Treize, after moving the mass of blond hair over Milliardo’s shoulder with such gentleness that it made him shiver, had begun kissing and nibbling on Milliardo’s neck. Milliardo moaned again and unconsciously rocked his hips forward as Treize slid his hand around to rest on Milliardo’s stomach.

“Oh God Treize” Milliardo whimpered “lower.”

Treize hesitated for a moment, his long fingers resting on the top of Milliardo’s jeans. He kissed the back of his neck, “You’re sure?”

Milliardo glanced back at him incredulously, “You have to ask? Do you remember being fourteen?”

Treize laughed, “Yes and it was hell. I think I spent entirely too much time in my room masturbating.”

Milliardo rocked his hips forward again, “And how much better would it have been,” he ask, his voice breathy with barely contained excitement; to hear Treize talk about masturbation was almost more than he could stand, “if you’d had someone to help?”

It was Treize’s turn to moan; finally he slid his hand down the front of Milliardo’s pants grasping at the hardness he found there. Milliardo’s hips jerked forward and he bit down on a shout. Treize began, ever so gently, to explore Milliardo’s aching arousal over the cloth of his boxers.

“Re-remember what I said ’bout not teasing?” Milliardo gasped out, “that—that still— oh God— that still stands.”

Treize chuckled in his ear, “No teasing hmm?”

“No,” Milliardo panted, knowing that he was very close to the edge and no matter how much he may want to would not be able to hold on much longer and he dearly wanted skin on skin contact.

Treize, seemly sensing as much, slid his hand under Milliardo boxers, marveling at the sensation. Milliardo let out a sharp yell and came all over Treize’s hand. He thought that he probably should have been embarrassed but wasn’t, it felt good, and it was, after all, the goal. He leaned back against Treize, his eye closed, reveling in the feeling. Treize withdrew his hand and began casting about for a towel. Milliardo chuckled as he felt Treize’s head swivel.

“Messy business isn’t it? I think there’s a towel over by the sink.”

Milliardo could feel Treize grin against the back of his head, “Yes, but fun.” He replied as he kissed Milliardo’s hair, excitement still coursing through him, “You going to let me up so I can go get the towel?  
Milliardo considered it for a moment, “If I must.” He sighed, grinning, “Actually, tell you what, you stay here and I’ll go get it ’cause I need to get cleaned up more than you.” Milliardo got unstably to his feet, suddenly feeling very self-conscious as he was still half out of his pants and walked quickly over to the towel. After he’d cleaned himself up he tossed the towel to Treize. As Milliardo made his way back over to where Treize was still seated on the floor, Treize eyed him speculatively, “You’re nervous.”

Milliardo snorted, “Is it that obvious?”

Treize grinned and pulled him back down into his arms, “Probably only to me. So why are you nervous?”

Milliardo laughed, “You want it alphabetical or in order of importance?”

Treize seemed to consider it seriously but his eyes sparked, “I think I’ll take order of importance.”

“Well, I’m…” he closed his eyes took a deep breath and said, “I’m trying to figure out just how much I can snuggle with you, without giving the impression of being, you know, too clingy or seeming like a girl. I want to do that” he indicated the still very noticeable bulge in Treize’s pants “back to you but I’m afraid that you’re not gonna let me, ’cause I’m ‘so young’ and finally,” he leaned back against Treize burying his face in his neck and whispered, “I’m afraid that you’re gonna change your mind and decide that this was a huge mistake.”

Treize squeezed him tightly and replied, “I love snuggling. I think its one of the perks of being gay.” They both paused on the word it was the first time it had been said out loud, but Treize went on in his quiet, unassuming voice, “You remember when we were younger and we used to cuddle on the couch?” Milliardo nodded and Treize continued, “I loved that. God, how I loved that. I’ll never forget how much it hurt when we decided we were too old for it. So in answer to the first, there is no such thing as “too clingy.” I, personally, am looking forward to never letting go of you if I can help it. And your manhood will never be in question as far as I’m concerned. As for retuning the favor,” he shifted so that his erection rubbed against Milliardo’s ass and his voice hitched, “I would very, very, very much like you to return the favor, and I only worry about your age because people are always going on about how young kids are forced into sexual situations because of peer pressure. I don’t want to do that to you, I” Treize seemed to rethink what he was going to say and continued, “I care about you too much for that. If you want to wait, we’ll wait, if you’re ready, and only you can judge that, then we won’t. Finally,” Treize tilted Milliardo’s head so that he was forced to look his eyes, “I . . . this could never count as a mistake to me Milliardo.” Treize explained, voice heavy with suppressed emotion “It’s . . . no, I will never change my mind. You have my word.”

Milliardo hugged him tightly, clinging to the one person in his life that had always understood and sighed. “Thank you.” Came his muffled reply. After Milliardo got a grip on himself he continued, “And yes,” he looked up at Treize, mischief sparkling in his ice blue eyes as he slid one hand down Treize’s chest to rest on his now quivering erection, “I judge myself to be very ready.”

Treize drew in a sharp breath, unable to answer as Milliardo began slowly unbuttoning his slacks. “Now you’re teasing.” Treize moaned as Milliardo’s hand slid ever so slowly into his pants, lightly resting on his throbbing cock.

“Turn about is fair play, besides you’re older than me, you should be able to deal with it.”

“I’m . . . you utter bastard.” Treize laughed, flipping Milliardo over and tickling him mercilessly.

“H-hey stop . . . that’s . . . that’s not fair!”

“Turn about is fair play” Treize retorted maliciously

“I’m . . .n-not going to jack you off . . .if, if you keep that up.” Milliardo tried to squirm out from under him, but Treize was both bigger and stronger than him. Finally, Milliardo flopped back exhausted to stare up at the boy poised above him. Treize leaned down and kissed him hungrily, tongue exploring every dip and curve of Milliardo’s mouth. Milliardo brought his leg up in-between Treize’s thighs to rub against Treize’s much ignored erection making Treize break the kiss to gasp.

“Damn!”

“Yes,” came Milliardo’s empathic reply, “now sit still and let me play with you.”

Treize felt his stomach tighten in anticipation at the words, and leaned back to let Milliardo have easier access.

“Treize?”

“Ye-yes?” Treize gasped out as Milliardo’s hand started working the length of his shaft.

“Will you take off your pants?” There was only a hint of trepidation in the question, but Treize admired Milliardo’s bravery all the same, he hadn’t had the guts to ask.

“Oh, God yes.” Treize stood and quickly shimmied out of his slacks and black boxers. Because he was still sitting on the floor, this put Milliardo’s head at groin level, and before he could think about it he swooped in and captured the head of Treize’s cock with his mouth. Treize let out a surprised cry that turned quickly to a deep, pleasure filled moan.

Milliardo pulled back, glancing up he met Treize’s eyes and ginned, “See, I told you it wouldn’t be you corrupting me.”

Treize’s knees were so week that he didn’t trust himself to stay standing, he sunk down on the floor next to Milliardo and, wrapping one long arm around the boys slender shoulders asked “Well?”

He laughed, “Not bad, it’s not the greatest taste in the world but I’m thinking if it can make you do that, I’ll get used to it.”

“Would you . . . would you keep going?”

Milliardo grinned evilly as if he’d won some private bet with himself and nodded, “You’re gonna have to sit in a chair though.”

Treize moved wordlessly to the nearest chair, legs spread wantonly as Milliardo crawled over to him. Treize groaned again at the sight of the blond boy crawling towards him, his cock bobbing in anticipation.

“Oh really?” Milliardo laughed.

“Yes, really. There is something about watching you crawl like that . . .” Treize moaned again, “oh my God I think I’m a sadist.”

Milliardo paused with his mouth just inches from Treize’s cock, “You’re a what?”

Treize whimpered from the sensation, “I’m . . . I was joking . . . and I’ll . . . I’ll explain in full after . . . after you finish. I’ll do what ever you want, right after you finish.”

Milliardo smiled, “That good huh?”

“Yes,” Treize breathed, smiling down at him, “that good. I’ll show you latter.”

Slowly, Milliardo began to take Treize in his mouth once again. He found, rather quickly, that if he kept the head of Treize’s cock towards the back of his throat he didn’t taste the precum as much and, as an added bonus, Treize seemed to like it. He had to admit, after a few minutes of his tongue roving over the exceptionally sensitive flesh, that he, himself, was enjoying it as well.

Treize, meanwhile, was in heaven. He had never, in his life felt anything so exquisite. Hand jobs could never compare to this, never. Maybe that’s while the Bible was down on masturbation, he thought giddily save it for the blow jobs. Even as Treize snickered at the idea he felt Milliardo’s hand snake up and cup his balls and all thought processes ceased to operate for some minutes leaving nothing but blinding sensation in their wake. Finally, unable to hold off any longer, he came with a tumultuous cry.

Milliardo, who had been so wrapped up in his own exploration was caught completely unprepared, he rallied magnificently, however, and only gagged for a moment or two before he was able to suppress the reflex. Because he’d had Treize so far back in his throat he’d not tasted much, much to his relief. Finally when Treize had gone limp he allowed himself to be pulled into the older boy’s arms. They sat quietly holding one another for what seemed like ages, until Milliardo finally commented, “Not nearly as messy.”

Treize laughed, “No. And thank you, that was, oh my God, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced. You were amazing, your mouth was . . . and the crawling . . .” Treize’s voice died as he was swamped by sensation again.

“Yeah,” Milliardo replied giving him a sly grin, “I think you owe me an explanation.”

Treize sighed, leaning his head back on the seat of the chair to stare up at the ceiling. “How on earth do I know what this is and you don’t? A sadist . . . a sadist is someone who takes pleasure in abusing other people.”

“That was hardly abuse Treize.” Milliardo pointed out frowning, “but I’ll be happy to crawl for you, if you like it that much.”  
Treize’s arms tightened convulsively around Milliardo, he shut his eyes and tried to steady his sudden rapid breathing. Milliardo watched all of this with a critical air and then leaned over and whispered in Treize’s ear, “as much as you want, whenever you want.”

Milliardo smirked, as Treize groaned, “Yup, definitely the one doing the corrupting, lookie if I haven’t turned my best friend into a sadist.” Treize blinked and then burst out laughing.

They lay together a while longer, reveling in their new found pleasure, until Treize finally asked, “What time is it?”

Milliardo glanced at his watch and swore, “One thirty.”

Treize tried to care but couldn’t muster the emotional fortitude that was required, he just felt too damn good, “We should” he remarked lazily, “head back, my parents are going to be extraordinarily incensed.”

Milliardo snickered. One of the things he loved most about Treize was how refined he was. Most people thought it was an act and that Treize was deliberately putting on airs to try and separate himself from those he thought of as beneath him. Truth be told, Treize actually actively repressed his natural grace in an attempt to fit in better with the rest of the people in town. It was only when he was truly relaxed that the full extent of it became apparent. Most people just didn’t know how to react to behavior that wouldn’t be out of place in a seventeen century king’s court. But it wasn’t exactly something the adults could complain about, unlike Milliardo’s behavior, which they found ridiculously easy to condemn; they couldn’t very well tell Treize that he was too polite and well spoken.

“God I love the way you talk.” Milliardo commented as he gently stroked Treize’s stomach. Treize actually blushed, which Milliardo thought hilarious considering everything they’d just done.

After a moment Treize remarked, “You do realize that we have Church in the morning.”

Milliardo’s hand froze mid-stroke, God that is going to be a nightmare, he thought sullenly. After a long moment he asked, “So . . . do you think we’re damned?”

“Probably,” Treize replied amiably, “But then, I have to assume, based on Pastor Daniel’s rather enthusiastic weekly sermons, so is everyone else.”

Milliardo thought about that for a moment, “We’re not stopping.”

Treize glanced down at him, and kissing him on the top of the head replied, “No, love, we’re not stopping.”

* * *

They were, indeed, in a great deal of trouble when they got home. In the time honored tradition of parents ever where, Milliardo’s parents demanded to know where he had been and then, before allowing him to respond, proceeded to lecture him about responsible behavior and the possibilities of boot camp. Treize’s parents merely looked disappointed and spoke in quiet voices, asking him if he truly understood the ramifications of his actions. Both boys, still elated from their new discovery had to work extremely hard to look appropriately repentant. They had devised a simple but plausible excuse for their absence: they had gone down by the creek and had simply fallen asleep star gazing. And while both sets of parents, not being entirely stupid, were fairly sure that there was more to it, the Khushrenadas, ultimately, trusted their son, and the Peacecraft’s trusted the Khushrendada’s son to keep their son out of too much trouble. They’d been let off the hook with a warning, and told in no uncertain terms that the next time they felt like taking a midnight stroll they should inform someone of where they were going before hand. Milliardo personally thought this a rather overzealous reaction, because, what, when you got right down to it, could possible happen in Scravinton, for pity’s sake.

The next day dawned all too soon for Milliardo’s liking and as he dragged himself to the shower, blond hair unraveling from its nightly braid, he found himself vividly remembering the activities of the previous evening. His hand snuck down to pump his now very aroused member as warm water splashed over him and he wondered when he would get the chance to get Treize to return the bow job. He’d certainly liked it enough.

All and all, Milliardo grinned, it hadn’t gone half bad. He’d confessed to being in . . . lust (yeah lust was a safe word) with his best friend who not only retuned the sentiment but wasn’t squeamish on acting upon it. Milliardo found himself wondering what they would try next, the possibilities that flitted though his mind were enough to bring him quickly to orgasm and he sighed deeply in satisfaction.

After the shower, which had taken slightly longer that it should have, Milliardo had to dress very quickly and ran down the stairs, still finishing off the running Windsor knot in his tie. He wolfed down his breakfast just in time to be herded off to Church by his mother, who was adjusting a rather absurd looking hat on her head that looked rather like a cake that had been sat on by an elephant.

When they arrived at the Church, Treize and his family were already ensconced within a pew, but Milliardo managed to squeeze in next to Treize just before the sermon started.

“Hi” Treize greeted him quietly, noticing with some exasperation, that his stomach was doing little flip flops in a rather ridiculous manor.

Milliardo grinned at him shyly, picking up on Treize anxiety he whispered, “Yeah me too.”

Treize fought the urge to hug him and was stuck with the enormity of how hard it was going to be to hide his feelings for Milliardo while out in public and mentally cursed the societal institutions that made such a relationship so dangerous. But before Treize could say anything in response Pastor Daniel appeared and began the sermon for the day.

Milliardo, who had never much enjoyed Church in the first place, feeling that any God that spent that much time smiting people wasn’t a patricianly good deity to be trying to get the attention of, and now had a very good reason sitting next to him to want to be else where, helped pass the time by counting the number of times Pastor Daniel said “Hellfire.”

One hundred and thirty sixth “Hellfires” latter, the sermon was drawn mercifully to a close and the congregation, souls just a little more brittle, was released out into the world once more. Their time, however, was still not their own, as now they were forced, both by societal expectations and more importantly their parents, to mingle at the After Church Brunch. Where, with practiced patience— at least on Treize’s part— they were forced to pretend to actually care about the up coming quilting bee, who was pregnant, and who had just gotten engaged. Milliardo found it interested to note the rather constant correlation between the last two. Treize referred to it as the “social hour” and personally believed it was the real reason why anyone sat through the appallingly long sermons that Pastor Daniel was wont to give. Milliardo just called it Hell, and saw Pastor Daniel’s sermons as something of a run up to the main event.

Milliardo was perched on a chair in the corner of the long dining room attempting to make himself invisible. Treize had been dragged off by Mrs. O’Rilley and Milliardo was in no hurry to join him. They had been talking, and here, talking meant Mrs. O’Rilley talking and Treize patiently listening, about Treize’s future; it was well known that Mrs. O’Rilley had two daughters that she was trying to marry off, and the fortunes behind the Khushrenada and Peacecraft names were more than enough to compensate for the eccentricies of their young heirs. Despite the town’s often cool attitude towards him, Milliardo was always surprised to find how many women were trying to set their daughters up with him, especially since, as Treize had pointed out just last night, he was only fourteen. It was shocking, really, what a sufficient amount of money would allow people to over look.

“Milliardo!”

At the sound of the voice Milliardo began glancing around desperately for the nearest exist but was thwarted in his escape attempt as a tall brunette planted herself in front of him.

“Hello, Laurie Une.” Milliardo replied sullenly, still casting about for a plausible means of escape.

Laurie Une smiled; it didn’t reach her eyes, “Milliardo, have you seen Treize? Only I’ve been looking all over for him and I can’t find him anywhere!”

Yeah, that would be because he can’t stand you Milliardo thought viciously, but all he said out loud was, “No, he went off with Mrs. O’Rilley earlier.”

Laurie Une pouted, it was well practiced and had been proven effective on multiple occasions, usually when attempting to separate her father from large sums of money; Milliardo longed to hit her. “Oh, well, if you see him, will you tell him I’m looking for him? I have to ask him something.” She informed him importantly. She waited to see if Milliardo would ask what she wanted to ask. Probably Milliardo thought, in hopes of being able to tell me it’s none of my affair. Milliardo didn’t give her the satisfaction, and merely said, “I’ll try and remember.”

“Good.” She huffed in exasperation, “I’ll be over there by the punch.”

Thanks for the warning

Laurie Une was the captain of the Cheerleading Squad. True to the stereotype she was the richest girl in school, was tall, beautiful and a complete air head. She was one year ahead of Treize but had decided, in her magnanimity, to grace him with her affection because, as she took pains to point out, he was the only boy in Scravinton worthy of herself. This had proved to be something of a scandal in Scravinton, as Treize was not the captain of the football team— that illustrious honor being the possession of a meaty senior named Billy Bob who had a tendency to get drunk and yell at bricks. In point of fact Treize didn’t even play football, which was another red mark in Scravinton’s book, the populace of which believed that it should be the goal of all red blooded American boys to pile on sixty pounds of padding and spend the day slamming into one another. He was, however, on the track team and would most likely make captain this year, despite his youth. This somewhat remedied the situation, but the football coach continued to hound him; Treize, however, had taken one look at the size of the other foot ball players and had chosen life.

Laurie Une remained unable to comprehend that Treize, despite his semi-acceptable athletic position, was not in the least interested in her attentions and blamed Treize’s failure to return her affection on Milliardo, claiming that it was his poor influence that was dragging Treize down. Milliardo had told her that as far as he was concerned, to get any lower than Laurie Une Treize would have to start digging. Things had gone down hill from there. What bothered Milliardo the most, however, was not Laurie Une’s uncomprehending obsession but her attempt to mimic Treize’s speech and mannerisms when she was around him, making it seem at times that she two entirely different people. Treize had chided Milliardo for complaining about it, saying that imitation was the truest from of flattery. Milliardo had retuned that, yeah, that was what everyone said right up until they found themselves having to put in for a restraining order.

Milliardo, glaring across the room at Laurie Une, was preparing to move to a less visible location when he heard his name yet again.

“Milliardo, there you are. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

Milliardo groaned inwardly, but he plastered a smile on his face and tired not to think about all the places he could dispose of the body. “Yes Pastor Daniel, and what can I do for you on this fine day— that doesn’t involve a trip to the barber, that is?”

Pastor Daniel chuckled good-naturedly but there was a glint in his steely gray eyes, “No, no nothing like that. I have a favor to ask you. I was just wondering if you might be able to persuade Treize to try out for the Christmas pageant this year.”

Milliardo blinked, it was early August, not exactly Christmas pageant season, Milliardo said as much and the Pastor laughed again. “No, no its not, but it’ll be upon us soon enough. I’ve been trying to get Treize to try out for years now but he’s always been a bit reluctant. I’d just love to have him sing in the pageant, he’s got the most amazing voice.”

Milliardo privately had to agree but he’d be damned if he gave Daniel the satisfaction. He’d heard Treize sing on a few occasions, and it was, in his opinion, the most heavenly sound in the world, although he suspected he was probably a bit bias. “Um, why don’t you ask him?”

“Oh I will, I will, I just thought that if he had encouragement from his best friend” he said the words with some disappointment, as if implying that Treize could do better, “that he might be more inclined to take me up on the offer this time.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.” Milliardo replied slowly, his eyes narrowing. He hadn’t missed the Pastor’s tone in referring to him as Treize’s best friend.

The Pastor nodded sagely, entirely missing the look in Milliardo’s eyes. “Thanks son. Well I’ve got to go make the rounds, duty calls.” He chucked again and headed off towards the small group of girls that had formed around Laurie Une.

Milliardo shook his head in amazement and wondered if people were so two faced everywhere or if it was endemic to Scravinton. He was still contemplating this when a quiet voice commented.

“You look like you’re about to chew somebody’s head off.”  
Milliardo glanced up grinning as Treize materialized by his side, but then frowned in mock anger. “And just where the Hell have you been? I have been accosted by Laurie Une and Pastor Daniel, both of whom were looking for you. I” he said primly, thrusting his nose in to the air in a spirited imitation of Laurie Une, “am not your secretary.”

“No,” Treize replied, eyes dancing, “You’re my catamite.”

Milliardo opened his mouth to retort and then blinked, “I don’t know what that means but I’ve a feeling that it wasn’t nice.”

Treize snickered, “Nice enough.”

“Mmmhmm, you will explain latter.”

Treize laughed, and then glancing over at the gaggle of girls still surrounding Laurie Une and said quietly, “I’ve already run in to Laurie Une, she says “hello” by the way—”

“Yeah I’ll bet she does.” Muttered Milliardo

“—She wanted to invite me to her birthday; apparently her father is renting a boat.”

“Really? Well I hope she falls in.”

“Milliardo!”

“Treize!.” Milliardo returned, his tone mocking.

Treize sighed, his stomach doing those flip flops again. Really, he thought, if this keeps up I am going to be absolutely worthless whenever he’s around “You two are amazing.” He laughed, and then after a moment added, “But I think it sweet, that you’re fighting over me.”

Milliardo sputtered indignantly, “I’m doing no such thing! She’s just a bitch who needs to be taken town a couple pegs, is all, and it’s not like anyone else is going to do it. Around here she’s practically royalty. Besides” he added so quietly that Treize had to strain to hear it, “I don’t have to fight over you, I’ve already got you.”

Forget the flip fops, an entire flock up butterflies had just taken up residence in his stomach. Milliardo seeming to understand, whispered, “You think we can blow this popsicle stand?”

Treize glanced around the now emptying room, and nodded, “Yes, I think we’ve served our time. Shall we?”

The two boys snuck out the back of the Church and began walking towards home in order to change out of their Sunday attire. Milliardo watched as Treize loosened his tie.

“Can I watch you change?”

Treize almost missed a step; he glanced over at Milliardo who was smirking at him. “I’ve created a monster.” Treize murmured affectionately.

“You’ve created nothing, this is all me baby. So, can I?”  
“Yes” Treize replied stomach tightening in anticipation, “But only if you promise to behave. We can’t do anything until we get to The Fort.”

“I think,” Milliardo purred, the noise going strait to Treize’s groin, “that I can manage that.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Milliardo just smiled.

* * *

Watching Treize change had been exquisite torture and by the time they reached The Fort Milliardo could barely keep his hands off him. They’d gone racing up the ladder and before the door even shut behind them had been in each other’s arms. They did nothing more than kiss for a good while, hands roaming over each other hungrily. Finally when the first urgency of their need to touch had been sated, they turned to more enterprising forms of entertainment.

“I believe,” Treize said pulling Milliardo towards one of the three chairs in The Fort, “I owe you a blow job.” Milliardo shivered and nodded, collapsing into the chair, which creaked alarmingly in protest. “You know it occurs to me” Treize said, as he lazily began toying with the buttons on Milliardo’s jeans, “that while you’ve seen me, twice now, without my clothes, I’ve yet to see you at all.”

Milliardo’s eyes widened and then he grinned, standing to allow Treize to undress him, sliding off first his jeans and then his boxers, which to Treize’s delighted surprise were purple.

“Purple?”

To his horror Milliardo found himself blushing, “Yeah, I like purple.” He mutter and then coughed, “No teasing, remember?”

Treize slid long fingers around Milliardo erection and began to pump gently, “I’m not teasing. I like them. Purple is nice. Very monarchical.” Milliardo eyed him speculatively, sensing that despite what Treize had said, he was being teased, but the sensations coming from his groin were drowning out all rational thought so he let it go, allowing himself to be pushed back farther into the chair. Treize dropped down to his knees and glanced up at him, “Any advice?”

Milliardo laughed, a little breathlessly, and said, “Keep the head towards the back of your throat, unless, of course, you find that you like the taste.”

Treize nodded, and then slowly began to lick and kiss Milliardo throbbing cock. The blond boy let out a gasp and began clutching at Treize’s shoulders, instantly understanding why Treize had enjoyed it so much. Oh god yes, we are going to do this all the time.

“Oh, God Treize” he whimpered as Treize switched positions slightly, “D-don’t stop. Oh god yessss.” He hissed as Treize used one finger to stroke the underside, tugging gently at his balls.

“I’m not . . . I’m not going to last— oh god— last much longer.”

Treize nodded to show that he understood and moved the head farther back into his throat. He found that he didn’t mind the taste all the much, but thought that it would probably be a good idea not to have to taste that much of it.

Milliardo let out a sharp cry, hips jerking forward. Treize ran soothing hands over his hips bones until finally, spent, Milliardo slid boneless to the floor to be capture by Treize’s waiting arms.

“Oh my God. That was . . . that was . . .”

Treize nodded in understanding, grinning from ear to ear, “Isn’t it?”

Milliardo buried his face in Treize’s neck and sighed. “Oh, we are going to do that all the time.”

Treize laughed, “Glutton.”

“Damn strait, or not, as the case may be.” He glanced at Treize, a wicked smile forming on his face. “Shall I return the favor?” He indicated the bulge in Treize’s pants.

Treize nodded and then froze as Milliardo whispered in his hear, “ Do you want me to crawl?”

Treize groaned, a flush spreading across his face, “Only,” he whispered hoarsely, his breath suddenly becoming very irregular, “Only if you want to.”

Milliardo began nibbling on his ear, “that’s not what I asked.” he whispered, thrilled to death to see Treize squirming, “I asked if you wanted me to.”

“Yes,” Treize closed his eyes and tried not to think about how wrong it was to make a fourteen year old boy crawl to you in order to give you blow job. He wasn’t, deep down, in his heart of hearts, sure that that forbidden and above all taboo nature of the act didn’t actually add that much more to it. He shivered as he felt Milliardo pull away.

When he opened his eyes he was greeted with the sight of the blond boy crawling towards him, white blond hair framing his face as it fell in sheets around him.

Treize licked his suddenly dry lips, “Oh God Milliardo” he said in a strangled voice as the boy finally came to a halt in front of him. “You . . . oh, God you . . .” He thrust his hands into that amazing wealth of hair, dragging Milliardo’s head towards his cock. Milliardo felt a thrill go through him at the act of dominance, and eagerly took the other boys cock in his mouth. It was easier the second time around, more familiar and infinitely less awkward. Treize kept his hands in his hair the entire time, perpetuating the element of domination. Milliardo was more than willing to play along. He found that he rather liked crawling for Treize. He shivered and wondering if there was an appropriate name for someone who liked being on the receiving end of sadism. He’d have to ask Treize. When Treize finally came, Milliardo was ready for him this time, and was please to see that he didn’t have to fight his gag reflex at all.

Afterwards he pulled Treize down into his arms, who actually looked a bit embarrassed. Treize, for his part, could not believe he’d actually dragged Milliardo’s head to his cock. He winced at the memory, oh god he thought horrified, I’m going to be one of those men who abuses their lovers,

Milliardo ran a soothing hand down his back and reassured him, “Treize, I like it.”  
Treize looked at him, desperately wanting it to be true, but Milliardo could see the doubt that lingered in his eyes so he elaborated, “I . . . I like crawling for you.” He could feel the mussels in Treize’s stomach tighten, wow he really, really gets off on that Milliardo thought, out loud he said, “I really do. It’s . . . it’s, well it’s a turn on for me as much as it is for you. Um . . .” He trailed off when he saw the surprise and then relief in Treize’s eyes.

“Honestly?”

“Would I lie?” Milliardo quipped.

“Not to me, not normally, but this is all so new.” Treize ran a hand gently over Milliardo’s face,

“And you don’t have to Milly” Milliardo ginned at the very old nick name that he’d long forbidden Treize to use for fear that others might take it up, “you never have to. If you enjoy it, that . . . that’s wonderful.” Treize couldn’t quite hide the excitement and anticipation in his eyes at the thought of being allowed to continue, “But if you ever don’t want to . . . or, or I go too far, you have to tell me.”

Milliardo nodded solemnly, knowing that Treize was still worried he added “Treize, I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, if I didn’t enjoy it. Honestly I wouldn’t. I trust you enough to know that you’re not gonna dump me because I don’t want to do something you want me to do, you’re better than that. I understand that. You need to understand that this doesn’t make you a bad person, or dirty. There is nothing wrong with this. You’re not hurting me.”

Treize smiled sheepishly, “You picked that up, did you?”

“Yes I saw the look in your eyes. You thought that because you were getting off on this it somehow made you a horrible person. It doesn’t and I enjoy it. And yes, if something bothers me I promise to tell you, but only if you promise to believe me and let this go and enjoy yourself. It won’t be any fun otherwise! So stop worrying.”

Treize hugged him fiercely, nodding. “What would I do without you?”

“Be forced to date Laurie Une?” Milliardo suggested and ducked, laughing as Treize swatted at him.

They lay together on the floor of The Fort, not talking, just soaking up the comfort of each others presence and watching the sun through the leaves just visible through one of the tiny windows.

Eventually Milliardo asked, “What is some one who likes being an opposite of a sadist?”

Treize barked a laugh and said, “A masochist.”

“Ah, so I’m a masochist then, who knew?”

Treize sighed, grinning hugely, “I’m glad that you enjoy it.”

“I do. A lot.” Milliardo thought for a moment, there was something else he was supposed to ask, ah, right “Hey, what was that other thing you called me earlier today?”

Treize laughed again, “A catamite?”

“Yeah, that. What is that?”

“Catamus was the name of Zeus’ cup bearer and his lover, well one of many, he also happened to be a young boy. Thus it has come down to us to mean a young boy who has sexual relations with a man.”

Milliardo snorted but ginned in spite of himself, liking the idea, “Aging yourself a bit for that one aren’t you? And if we take the Bill Clinton approach we’ve not technically had ‘sexual relations.’” Milliardo thought about that for a moment and then frowned, “about that, sexual relations I mean. Um, do you . . .” he trailed off uncertain of how to proceed.

Treize glanced over at him, “Do I what? Want to? God yes.”

Milliardo rolled his eyes and shoved him, “I should think that would be obvious at this point! No you idiot, what I was asking was, um, do you know how? You know, the mechanics and all?”

Treize coughed, slightly embarrass. Sitting up he shifted uncomfortably as he confessed, “Um, no actually, now that you ask. I’m not, exactly sure, no.”

Milliardo, who, mimicking Treize, had pushed himself up to a sitting position, stared at Treize in shock. This was the first time that he could ever remember Treize not knowing the answer to a question; it would have been funny if it hadn’t been so terribly ironic. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Treize pulled him closer and sighed, “No, I’m afraid not. I was actually hoping that you might have an idea.”

“Me? Why the Hell would I know?”

“Well, you always seemed to know a lot about sex.” Treize replied desperately, “Whenever somebody brought up the subject at school you seemed to always have something to say.”

“About girls, sure, but that’s only because I steal my dad’s playboys.”

Treize looked shocked, “Your dad reads playboy?”

“Yes, but I think “reads” is the wrong word.”

“And you read them?”

“Well, yeah.” Milliardo replied defensively, “They actually have some really good stories in there, believe it or not, and besides it was good locker room fodder. I’ve already got long hair, I’m not gonna be pegged as a “fag” if I can avoid it.”

Treize considered this, “I have to say I’m impressed, the thought never even occurred to me.”

“How do you know all that stuff then, about sadism and everything?”

“My reading, the Marquise DeSaude was an amazing character.”

“Should I know who that is?”  
“A seventeenth century Frenchman who invented sadism.”

“Ah, so it’s a French thing, should have guessed.”

Treize swatted at him again. After a moment he asked, “What on earth are we going to do? Do you have any idea how it works, I mean other than the very basics. One would assume that there has to be some kind of trick to it.” Treize couldn’t imagine that you just went at it, it seemed like it would be so painful.

Milliardo thought about if for a moment, and then said grudgingly “Well, I’m pretty sure that you need some kind of . . . I don’t know, um, something to make it easier and that it comes in a little bottle.”

Treize looked at him inquisitively, and Milliardo ducked his head blushing slightly, “You remember how suddenly my dad has to listen to the football games on the radio? Well my mom made my dad cancel our satellite subscription when she caught me watching, a, um, really bad porno at three in the morning.’ He explained in a rush, “It was . . . it was a couple of guys, I didn’t get much really, the picture was fuzzy as Hell and I was so paranoid that I was gonna get caught— which I did—“

“Dear Lord what did you do?” Treize interrupted, horrified.

“I groveled, and said that I hadn’t known what it was, and that I was trying to figure it out and I would have turned it off as soon as I realized what it was. Um, yeah, mom didn’t buy it, and thus no more satellite. Dad was really pissed, that’s when he grounded me for three weeks, you know two months ago.”

“That’s why . . . why on earth didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what? That’d I’d been caught watching porn? No way. It would have brought up too many questions I wasn’t sure that I could answer.” So he hadn’t told Treize why he’d been grounded only that he had been and that he didn’t want to talk about it. Treize, mercifully, hadn’t pushed the issue for which Milliardo had been eternally grateful. “Thank you, by the way, for being so good about that. I know you were upset that I didn’t tell you.”

Treize shrugged, “I figured it was embarrassing.”

“And boy was it. I couldn’t look at my mom for days. Anyway” Milliardo cleared his through and veered back to the original topic, “So I didn’t get much, not nearly enough, that’s why I was hoping that you knew what we would need to do. But I am sure that they had something that looked like a little bottle of something, it seem pretty important.”

Treize thought about the mechanics of regular sex, and then superposed them on to two men, “Lubricant!” He said suddenly.

“Bless you.”

“No, lubricant. Whatever it was I bet they were using it for lubricant. Other wise the friction would be Hell. I don’t suppose you saw what it was called?”

Milliardo snorted, “Yeah right, I was too busy trying to make out the size of the guys’ dicks, labels were not my focal point at the time.”

Treize raised his eyebrows at him and Milliardo blushed, “What?” He muttered, “M’ a growing boy, I have needs.”

Treize laughed and hugged him, wondering how on earth he’d ever managed to end up so lucky as to fall in lo—um to have a friend like Milliardo. “Well,” he said after a moment, “we’re just going to have to make a trip to Brighton this weekend.” Brighton, which was three hours away, was the nearest town with a book store of any size.

“Woo who!” Whooped Milliardo, “road trip!”

* * *

“I think,” Treize said, leading the way into the book store, “that we should split up, I’m not exactly sure what section it will be in . . .and if it comes down to it, I should be the one to do any talking.”

Milliardo blinked, “And why’s that?”

“You mean aside from the fact that you are a rather recognizable figure with all that hair?” Milliardo made a face at him, “I’m older and it won’t look . . . as strange.”

“Treize, my man, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you are just as memorable as me, no one around here, and I mean no one, talks like you do.”

Treize blinked at him. “It’s not that noticeable is it?”

Milliardo laughed, “Um, yeah, ‘fraid so.”

“Well . . .damn. I’ll have to work on that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Pardon?”

“I,” Milliardo cleared his throat feeling stupid, “I love the way you talk. And I hate the fact that you feel the need to tone it down for other people. Screw’em, you be who you are and to Hell with what they think!”

Treize grinned, “I didn’t realize that you felt so passionately about it.”

Milliardo was about to reply when he was interrupted by the obnoxiously chipper voice of an overly enthusiastic sales person. “Hello there boys! Is there anything I can help with?!”

As one Milliardo and Treize turned to face the sales associated, and Milliardo’s attention was immediately arrested by the cluster of “How May I Help You?” buttons that seemed to be colonizing the woman’s bosom. “Are you looking for anything in particular?!”

“No ma’ma,” Treize replied, elbowing Milliardo to try and get him to stop starring at the woman’s chest, “We’re just browsing.”

“Oh! Well we have a great selection of new releases, plus we have the sales table over here, all of the books on that table are twenty-five percent off!”

“You don’t say?” Milliardo replied sarcastically. “Well thanks, but we’re just looking around.”

“Ok, but if you need anything you just let me know! My name’s Betty Ann and I’ll be right over there!” And the woman bustled off, presumable to stock up on more exclamation points.

“There’re like vultures.” Milliardo grumbled in exasperation as they made their way to the back of the book store. “Seriously, it’s scary.”

Treize chuckled but refrained from comment. Now that they were actually here, Treize had to admit that he was at a bit of a loss as to what they were actually looking for. He felt half temped to go find Betty Ann and ask her— but the thought of actually trying to articulate what is was that he wanted brought him up short. He was just about to suggest once again that they split up when he happened to glance up at one of the shelf headings which read, bold as brass, “Gay and Lesbian section.”

Well, that was helpful, if slightly unexpected. Mused Treize as he steered Milliardo in that direction. Treize glanced over the section until he found a likely candidate: “Improve your sex life!” with a picture of two heavily sculpted men eyeing each other on the cover. Treize glanced quickly thought the book, noting the section on recommended lubricants and smiled.

“We need a code word.”

Treize look up at Milliardo who had a different book in hand. “We need a what?”

“It says here that we need a code word.” Milliardo repeated, waving the book in Treize’s face. Treize caught his wrist, stilling the rapid movement thus enabling him to read the title: “Idiot’s guide to Sadomasochism.”

Treize’s mouth dropped open and Milliardo grinned. “They . . . they actually make “how to” guides for it?”

“Yup, and I think, since we’re just starting out and all that we probably ought to invest in one.” Milliardo flipped it back open, “how would you feel about me in chains?”

Milliardo who had been strategically looking down at the book heard Treize’s breath hitch and smiled, he was slightly surprised to find his own stomach was doing back flips in anticipation. Trying to keep his voice steady he glanced up and asked, “Don’t you agree?”

In the end all Treize could manage was a sharp nod and Milliardo laughed.

* * *

“Why are we going to the drug store here?” Milliardo asked as Treize led him across the street to “Al’s drug store.”

“Well, do you really want to try and buy lubricant off of Mrs. Smith?”

Milliardo looked panicked, “No!”

“Well, there you go then.”

The door to the drug store jingled merrily as they entered and made their way to the back of the store as unobtrusively as possible. For someone like Milliardo, it wasn’t very.

“God, this is going to be worse than buying the books.” Milliardo complained as he glanced over the isles. “Do you want me to do it? After all you bought the books, s’my turn.”

Treize shook his head, “I know that you don’t want to hear this Milly, but you’re too young. I need to do it or we are going to get into serious trouble.”

Milliardo looked as if he would argue and then shrugged, “All right by me, it’s gonna be embarrassing as hell.”

“Thanks.” Treize replied dryly

“Any time.”

Treize began the long walk towards the front counter, where the lubricant, condoms and cigarettes were kept. “Excuse me, sir.” Treize asked in his most “What ever I say must be true because I am clearly better educated and of a higher station in life than you” voice. He had it down to an art if he did say so himself.

The man glanced up, “Oh, hello there son, what can I do ya for?”

Son Treize groaned internally, oh dear lord he called me son, this is never going to work. Treize rallied as best he could and said, “I would like to buy four tubes of your Yk Jelly please.” The man’s eyebrows shot up, “Well, um, don’t ya think you’re a bit young to be buying such things there son?”

“No, in point of fact, I do not. That should, I believe, have been made evident by the fact that I just asked to purchase them.

The man frowned, “now see here—”

“Hey! There you are. Did you get the stuff to fix my bike yet?” Milliardo came strolling over, bike magazine in hand. He glanced at the man behind the counter and then back to Treize, puzzlement showing on his face. “What’s up?”

The man behind the counter looked at Treize, who was endeavoring to make it look as if the story wasn’t news to him, and then to Milliardo, “Now sonny I don’t think I’ve got whatcha need to fix a bike in here, you’d be wanting old man Miller’s place down the way.”

Milliardo shook his head and pointed to the YK jelly behind the counter, pointedly reading the label and then glanced back at the magazine in hand, “No. No it says here” he thumped the magazine for emphasis, “that the best thing for getting off stripped lug nuts is YK jelly. Which is that stuff right there.”  
The old man blinked and then glanced once again at Treize, “Is that what you wanted it for?”

Treize made a show of frowning, “Well yes, what else would I use it for?”

“Well, um,” The man began, looking somewhat uncomfortable; he cleared his throat nosily and then said, “Ah, never mind. You said that you wanted four was it? That’s a lot for a lug nut.”

Milliardo nodded sagely, “Yeah that’s what I thought, but it says that it takes a lot, and the tubes are kinda small so I thought we’d better make sure that we had enough, just to be on the safe side.”

“Oh, right then.” Finally in the face of Milliardo’s innocent puzzlement he gave up. “We’ll here you go, that’ll be $23.50.”

Once outside Treize leaned down towards Milliardo and whispered, “That was brilliant.”  
Milliardo grinned, “Of course it was, I though of it.”

“My, aren’t we smug?”

Milliardo grinned happily, “Yup.”

* * *

“Well?” Treize asked as he drove. Milliardo looked up from flipping through the book, “I’m going to be on bottom.” It wasn’t a question. Treize looked uncomfortable, “You . . . you don’t have to be, we could take turns—

“Switch hit.” Milliardo corrected him

“What?”

“According to this, each man swapping who’s on top is called switch hitting,”

Treize gave him a looked of utter incredibility. Milliardo laughed, “Look,” he pointed out in response, “if we’re gonna do this we might as well get the jargon right, yes?”

Treize sighed in a put upon fashion, eyes sparkling “If we must. Very well, we could ‘switch hit.’”

“Yes we could, do you want to? And think about that before you respond.”

Treize shut his mouth and thought about the question. After several moment of reflection he finally said, “I’m not sure.”

“Good answer. Now pull over.”

Treize blinked, “What? Why?”

“Because I really want to kiss you right now and I think that might impede your driving.”

Treize, laughing, tuned the car off the small, two lane road and onto a dirt path.

“You know we’re probably in somebody’s driveway.”

Crawling over to where Treize sat and straddling him Milliardo replied, “Really don’t care, now shut up and kiss me.”

Treize groaned, digging his hands in to Milliardo’s hair he dragged his head down for an almost violent kiss.

“God, you are intoxicating.” He mumbled into Milliardo’s mouth.

Milliardo shifted his hips against the growing stiffness in Treize’s pants and sighed happily as Treize groaned. “We . . . we have to stop . . . .”Treize panted, “because . . . because I’m not . . .oh god . . .not going to be able to keep from . . .”

All thought stopped at Milliardo rocked harder against Treize and begged, “Take me. Please.” He whispered, “Take me now.”

“Oh God Milly! We can’t . . . not here . . .The Fort . . .”

Treize sputtered to a halt as Milliardo ground his hips against Treize again. “please.”

“Oh God” he yelped, “To Hell with it!” Treize began to search frantically for the lubricant; trying to force his brain momentarily past the lust induced haze that had permeated it. He scrabbled for the lube sending the plastic bag and lube box flying, he had just managing to shake the folded instructions loose of the tube when Milliardo shifted again causing Treize’s brain to shut down for several seconds. “B-back seat.”

Milliardo nodded against him and they scrambled to get into the back seat, Treize took a moment to flip frantically through the instructions in their newly purchased book Milliardo was breathing hard, eyes closed he whimpered when his boxers where pulled down and Treize ran a hand along his thigh and down to the joint between his pelvis and his leg. Milliardo canted his hips toward Treize silently begging, he moaned as Treize ran one long finger over his opening.

“You have to tell me if it hurts Milly. D-don’t let me hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He replied breathlessly, and groaned as Treize slide one finger into him, a second soon followed. “Oh dear God more!” he begged. Treize hesitated for only a moment and then slipped another finger in. Milliardo thrust back on Treize’s fingers trying desperately to increase the friction. “More Treize, please!” Treize pulled back, lubing himself quickly; he placed the tip of his cock at the now red and dripping entrance. Milliardo began pushing towards him as Treize hesitated and Treize lost what little self restraint he had left. He slid fully into Milliardo, groaning at the warm suction. “Harder.” Treize complied finding a rhythm that soon had him pounding in to the prone boy; the car, the dirt road, life as he knew it ceased to exist. All that he knew for several blissful moments was the feel of Milliardo clenching around him sending waves of pleasure pulsating throughout his entire being. When the world finally resurfaced he found himself lying atop of Milliardo sticky and extraordinarily sated.

Milliardo stared up at the ceiling of the car; his entire body was buzzing with pleasure. He almost wanted to do it again, but his ass was telling him to rethink that idea. He shifted gingerly and then shrugged, not that bad actually, a little sore but certainly nothing that he couldn’t deal with. He grinned up at the ceiling, he couldn’t ever remember feeling this good in his entire life actually, if this was what it felt like to be damned then he was all for it.

Treize finally broke the silence, “Are you ok?”

“Treize I haven’t ever been more ok in my entire life.”

Treize eyed him dubiously but couldn’t find any hint of regret or pain, “that was probably a little rough for your first time.” He remarked guilty

“I loved it. Next time I want you to go even harder.” Milliardo grinned to himself as he felt the muscles in Treize’s stomach tighten at the idea, yes definably a sadist. But I’m beginning to suspect that I actually am a masochist. “I liked it Treize, all of it, all I wanted was for you fuck me through the car seat and out the other side. I swear.”

Treize groaned but nodded burying his face in Milliardo’s shoulder, finally deciding to trust his instincts in regard to Milliardo’s words and they were telling him that Milliardo was being nothing but one hundred percent truthful. “What are the odds?” He mumbled into Milliardo’s shoulder.

“What? That I would turn out to be a masochist and you a sadist? I dunno, probably astronomical. Lucky us.”

“Indeed.

* * *

“Where have you two been?” Laurie Une demanded as they walked into the town café. Treize looked slightly taken aback at her tone but merely replied, “Brighton.”

“Oh,” she pouted, “I would have liked to go.”

Treize and Milliardo exchanged glances trying to keep the stupid smiles of their faces and failing miserably. “It was kinda a boy’s day out.” Milliardo snickered and Treize barked a laugh.

“Sorry.” Milliardo apologized, no sounding the least bit sorry.

Laurie Une ignored him, “So you’ll be at my party this Friday right?” She asked Treize pointedly, Milliardo rolled his eyes.

“Of course.” Treize agreed pleasantly, “Now if you’ll excuse us we’re starving.” Treize moved to walk by her but she caught his arm, “I’m so glad that you’ll be there.” She gushed, stretching up on tip toe to kiss him on the cheek. Milliardo fought down a rush of jealousy reminding himself sternly that Treize was his and he didn’t have anything to worry about from that brunette bimbo. Still he was more than happy to see her go, turning back to Treize he was surprised to find him frowning.

“What?”

Treize sighed, “I had hoped that her infatuation would fade with time.” He confessed, “But I’m beginning to suspect that such may not be the case and that nothing short of a flat out ‘no’ will have the desired impact.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Milliardo said as they took an isolated booth in the back.

“You would.” Treize replied dryly, picking up his menu “But she’s not as bad as you think, and I’d hate to hurt her.”

“If you say so.” Oooo they’ve got smores again. Milliardo looked up suddenly, “what do you say we ask our parents if we can’t go camping for the next week?”

Treize raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, “Because who wouldn’t want to spend the week sleeping among the insects of the world without air-conditioning or toilet facilities?”

Milliardo laughed, “Well, clearly you. But I was thinking camping of a more . . . domesticated verity. Such as a hotel. Somewhere that isn’t here. With sturdy headboards.”

Treize froze, the implications flashing through his eyes. He flushed, “Hotels have age requirements.” He said finally

Milliardo’s eyes sparkled, “Where is you’re sense of adventure Treize? I’m sure that we can find someway around it. You look old enough to be eighteen. I can pretend to be your brother—

“Because we look so much alike.”

“Cousin then. Think about it. A whole week. Nothing but us, a couple lengths of rope and a tube of lube.”

“You are cruel.” Treize breathed, clearly aroused and not wanting to be. I—I have Laurie Une’s party this Friday. It—it would have to be next week.”

“That’s fine, it’ll give us longer to plan. And to gather necessary equipment.” Milliardo purred,

“Hell we could even push it to two weeks. Mom and dad are always complaining that I don’t get out enough.” He grinned evilly. “Between the two of us we should have more than enough money.”

Treize admitted defeat. His hormones had clearly bludgeoned his common sense into submission. “I’ve got more than enough, yes.” Treize volunteered, “I’ll talk to my parents tonight. Although they are going to be suspicious about my sudden desire to cavort with the natural elements.”

“Tell them that I talked you into it.” Milliardo laughed, elated “they’ll believe that.”

“Sadly yes,” Treize sighed trying and failing to fight down a grin, “they will.”

* * *

“That was entirely too easy.” Treize remarked as they unloaded their bags from the car.  
Milliardo shrugged, “Money talks.” Actually he was slightly shocked that the manager of the Bed and breakfast hadn’t raised more of a fuss about renting a cabin to a couple of kids, in fact he’d seemed under whelmed by the idea. He’d talked up the fishing at the lake near by as well as the short trip to town but never even asked to see ID. Still, Milliardo gave a mental shrug, worked out well for them.

Treize gazed around the empty landscape, raising one long fingered hand to shield his eyes, “he was probably just happy to get the business.” His eyes slid to Milliardo, and a truly evil grin spread across his face, “Nice to know that we won’t have to be quiet.”

Milliardo shivered, “You. In. Now.”

Treize laughed joyously, “This is going to be the best two weeks of my life.”

They hauled their bags into the cabin, taking special care with the final one that held the gear that Milliardo and Treize had been stockpiling. It was rudimentary as they hadn't had access to porn shops or websites being underage but they both agreed that they'd done pretty well. 

Milliardo emerged from the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen where Treize was unloading their meager food supplies, neither one was much of a cook.  "Treize, you've got to check this out."  Milliardo called.

In keeping with their cover as just two normal kids on vacation for a couple of weeks they had asked for the cheapest cabin possible and the man had half jokingly replied that he had a honeymoon couple deal going.  They'd exchanged glances and some how managed to keep the smiles of their faces when they said it would be fine.  They'd even made a show of counting out the money for the two weeks and about arguing over whom would get to sleep in the bed.  Treize followed Milliardo back into the bathroom and smiled. The source of Milliardo’s enthusiasm was immediately apparently; the tub was huge, with Jacuzzi jets lining the edge. 

"There see," Treize said grinning; "now this is camping."

"You are such a snob."

"Pot, kettle."

Milliardo made a show of looking offend, "I am not a snob.  I am a rebel."  He gather up his mass of hair and waved it at Treize,”See?"

Laughing Treize tackled him, wrestling him to the ground until he had the younger boy pinned beneath him, "Yes."  He said breathlessly, eyes sparkling, "Yes, I see."

Milliardo stared up at him, eyes dark with lust, "Did" he coughed as his voice broke and he tried again, "Did you want to go to the bed room?"

Treize thought about it, "Probably best."  He grinned at him lasciviously, "For now."

Making it to the bedroom was difficult however, as neither wanted to let the other go for any length of time. They dropped clothing as they went grabbing and fondling one another, finally Treize had him pinned again, this time on the bed.  
“Now,” He said excitedly, “we are going to do this again, and this time it will not be in the back of my car.”

It has been a week since the last time they had had sex and both were chomping at the bit to try it again. He slid his hands over Milliardo’s narrow chest, causing Milliardo to arch up into the touch. “Two weeks.” He mused as one hand dipped lower, fondling. Milliardo gave a soft moan and shifted against his hand. “I get you for two entire weeks.”

Milliardo nodded spasmodically and Treize chuckled. He slid his hand along the underside of Milliardo’s cock, tracing the throbbing vein. Milliardo hissed, shoving helplessly against the bed. “Treize.” He begged.

But Treize ignored him, if anything he slowed down. “I” he said evenly, despite his racing pulses and lust filled eyes, “Am going to make you beg me to take you. And once you beg, I’m going to make you scream and once you scream I am going to drive my dick into you so hard that you are going to taste it.”

Milliardo shuddered— hard— his excitement communicating itself to Treize who reveled in it. It was like a drug. He slid down and took Milliardo’s cock in his mouth, laving it gently which was clearly not what Milliardo wanted.

“Treize,” he whimpered, “harder.”

Treize slowed down even more, his fingers roaming over all the beautiful, porcelain skin that he could reach, touching gently, feather-light caresses that had Milliardo writhing on the bed in frustration.

“Treize!”

“Turn over.”

For one sparkling moment Milliardo thought that he had gotten his wish, but it was not to last. The torture began anew as Treize once again began his too soft ministrations.

Treize, please, for the love of god!”

“Yes?”

“Please!”

“Please what?”

Milliardo drew in a shuttering breath, “P-please get on with it!”

“Get on with what Milly?” Treize purred, “I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I w-want you to fuck me!”

Treize slid one finger in, agonizingly slow, twisting so that he just brushed Milliardo prostate. He had read the books that they had bought cover to cover. At this point he had committed entire passages to memory. He smiled evilly, “What do you want?”  
“Oh God, sweet Jesus fucking Christ, Fuck me!” Milliardo moaned.

But Treize did not relent. He kept up his teasing until Milliardo was so high that he couldn’t even manage entire sentences, sobbing “Fuck me” over and over until finally Treize slid his fingers out, and then slammed then in hard. Milliardo screamed, it echoed around the cabin, sounding loud in the country stillness, neither noticed. Even as Treize pulled his fingers out Milliardo attempted to follow them with his body, pleading only half coherently for Treize to fuck him. Treize lubed himself up quickly, his breathing erratic, he could no longer restrain himself, he positioned himself and then slammed in forcefully once again, groaning out Milliardo’s name.

They moved together, frantically, sobbing each other’s names as well as wild expletives. Treize realized that he’d waited too long and that he was too close to the edge, he grabbed hold of Milliardo’s weeping cock and began stroking in time to his almost frantic thrusts. Milliardo came, hard, and his spasmodic clenching sent Treize over the edge as well. Finally they collapsed onto the bed; Milliardo so exhausted that it took him a moment to even realize that he was laying in the wet spot, and another to decide he cared. He finally rolled over, wincing slightly, and stared at Treize.

“Are you ok?” Treize asked solicitously, running on hand through Milliardo’s hair.

Milliardo nodded, “I’m fine. I’ll be sore but,” he closed his eyes, his face a picture of ecstasy,

“But hopefully not too sore that we can’t break out the ropes tomorrow.” He felt Treize’s stomach tighten and laughed, “You are insatiable you know that?”

Treize nodded solemnly, “Yes.” He added, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it last a bit longer.” He blushed slightly, “I—

Milliardo kissed him, “it was wonderful.” When Treize opened his mouth to argue Milliardo cut him off with another kiss and then said, grinning, “And we’ve got two weeks to get it perfect.”

Treize shivered and then pulled him closer, “oh, and we will.”

End


	2. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place before Treize and Milliardo head out to the cabin for their two week vacation.

“So what are you going to get her?”  Milliardo asked as he rummaged through the bargain bin of Maryann’s Craft Boutique.

“What?”  Asked Treize

Milliardo brought a piece of black silk over for Treize’s inspection, “I said, what are you going to get her for her birthday?”  He ran the silk over the skin of Treize’s arm.

Treize shivered, “Mmm, nice.”  He blinked, summoning up the conversation that they’d been having earlier.  Oh, I’m not sure.  The usual?”

Milliardo rolled his eyes, “You know the only reason she gets so excited when you give her roses is because she thinks that you’re suggesting something more.  So four of these you think?”

Treize smiled wickedly, “five.  And at this point, I’m inclined to agree with you, but I always get her roses for her birthday.”

“So switch it up then.  Buy her, I dunno, a gerbil or something.”  They both stopped to picture the idea of Laurie Une with a small, dependent animal and shivered, “Ok, or not.  Why five?”

Treize chuckled and whispered, “Blindfold.”

“Ah.”  Milliardo choked, trying for nonchalance and failing, “Right. He cleared his throat, “Get her tickets to a movie.”

Treize arched an eyebrow, “So that she can then insist that I go with her?”

“Ok, get her one ticket.  We’ll take these.”  That latter comment was directed at the plump woman behind the counter.  She smiled cheerfully.

“Allrighty then. And how are you boys doin’? didja’ll find everything ya’ll were lookin’ for?”

Treize smiled, “Yes Ma’ma, thank you.”

She eyed the silk and then began searching through a card catalog looking for the price,

“So what ya’ll planin’ to do with this hmmm?  Makin’ somthin’ for yor mama?”

Milliardo chuckled evilly, “Sure.”

“I can’t get her just one ticket.”  Treize picked up the conversation as they existed the store. “It would be . . .” he trailed off as he searched for some way to explain proper gift giving educate to Milliardo.  
“It would be what?”  Milliardo paused as he looked down the street, “Where to next?  Joe’s?”

“It would be rude.”  Treize answered finally ignore Milliardo’s rolled eyes, “and yes, I think Joe’s would be best.  Those certainly won’t be long enough by themselves.”

“Hey there boys!  Got a special goin’ two fer one?” A wizened old man hailed them as they walked past.

“No thanks Mr. Miller.”  Milliardo grinned, “I’m good.”

Mr. Miller gave him a jaundiced look, “Come now boy, won’t kill ya. T’ain’t right you walkin’ round with all that hair!  Makes you look like a girl, is what it does!”

Milliardo laughed at the familiar argument, “The girls in this town would be lucky to have hair this good!”

“So says you, boy.  You jus wait. One of these days you’re gonna wake up and realize ain’t no woman gonna wanna be with a man who has hair down to his waist!”

“You know, I’m willing to take the chance.”  Milliardo laughed as they continued down the street.

They entered Joe’s hardware store and headed toward the rope section.  “What type do you think?”

Treize eyed the ropes speculatively, “Something thin, that knots easily.” Milliardo selected a particular type of rope and measure out four individual lengths. “Add an extra foot or so on each,” he murmured, “Just to be safe.”

“Since when did safety enter into this?”  Milliardo murmured back grinning.

Treize rolled his eyes, but refrained from comment as Milliardo did as he was told.  Once this too had been purchased they began ambling back toward Milliardo’s house.  

“Speaking of safety, we are sill in need of a Word.”

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well, it’s up to you.”  Treize smirked, “You’ll be the one using it.”

Milliardo’s eyes widened, “why you, you. . .”he had to stop and adjust his pants, “Fine,”

He cleared his throat and continued, “Tease.”

“You can’t use a word that you might use in actual conversation.”  Treize replied innocently, a wicked smile o his face.

“I wasn’t, ugh,” Milliardo shoved him, “Asshole.  Fine, um,” he looked around the street, hoping for some inspiration.  Unfortunately Broad Street failed to inspire.  Anything.  He glanced back they way they’d come eye’s landing on the barber shop.  “Hair cut.  I’m hardly going to use that.  Ever.”     


End file.
